


Under A Bright Moon

by Dragonquillca



Series: Tales From The West [2]
Category: NWSL - Fandom, USNWSL, USWNT - Fandom
Genre: Alt-Western, F/F, F/M, Good vs Evil, Horses, Old West, Shooting Contest, Slow Burn, U.S Marshal, Western Romance, minor gun-play this is a Western after all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-05-27 22:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15034463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonquillca/pseuds/Dragonquillca
Summary: Now that Marshal Harris is no longer in hiding and Kennecot is no longer a threat, the town of South Pass can heal and thrive. But while one of the residents has her eye on the new Marshal, Harris must battle her growing attraction to the town's doctor. Everything is complicated by a shooting match that comes with a hefty prize, attracting all sorts of people. Not all of them are good, either. Things are about to get even more complicated...





	1. Chapter 1

 

Marshal Ash Harris leaned back in her chair and stretched out her legs. She had made it a habit lately to settle on the porch of a different building every day while her office and jail were being built. Today she had chosen to sit on the porch of the general store. Since the store was currently not busy, Kyle sat in a chair to Harris’ right while his nephew Cassius rested in the only shady spot on the porch. The sun had risen in a clear sky and was doing it’s best to bake them all, without the benefit of any reprieve granted by clouds. A slight breeze lifted the dust from the street and spread it even further until Ash was certain she could taste it.

 

Kyle reached into his vest pocket and pulled out his watch. He rubbed the cover for a bit with his thumb before popping it open.

“The stage should be along anytime,” he said. “The driver told me last time he was here that it was easier to do business now,” Kyle return the watch to his pocket.

Harris nodded slowly. “Good.”  

Anything more she might have said was cut short by the arrival of a wagon. The horse pulling it looked like it hadn’t seen a meal in days, or a good brushing. The man at the other end of the reins pulled the tired-looking beast to a stop in front of the hitching rail and jumped down. He flicked the reins over the rail and tied them off, although Harris privately doubted the horse had the energy to go anywhere. The people in the wagon didn’t look much better off.

 

Three kids climbed down from the back, all of them skinny, thin-limbed and topped by sandy brown hair that needed cutting. A woman climbed down from the front, and she too was thin. She turned toward the back, paused for a moment as if she were counting her children, and faced the general store. Her eyes never left Marshal Harris as she and her children approached.

Harris gazed back, unaffected by the study.

The woman had a quality Harris had seen before. Lack of hope. There were lines pinching the corners of her eyes, surrounding pale blue, lackluster orbs. Her mouth had pulled into a thin line and her shoulders slumped in resignation.

The man she had ridden in with looked very much like the children. The same underfed look about him, same sandy hair in need of a trim...and the same defeated air. 

This was a family struggling to get by, Harris decided.

His gaze went from her face to the star on her chest and back to her face. He said nothing, did not nod and never slowed his pace as he climbed the two steps up to the porch. 

Neither did the woman with him, or her children.

 

Harris watched Cassius rise from his pool of shade and follow the little family in. A heartbeat later, Kyle went in as well.

Ash stayed where she was for a couple of minutes until she heard snippets of Kyle’s conversation as he explained the changes that had taken place in the town recently.

“The town has taken up the old name of South Pass now that Kennecot is dead, thanks to our new marshal out there...That’s Marshal Harris...took out all of Kennecot’s men before finally killing the bas...man right out there in the street...the town is building a jail for Marshal Harris...he’s staying with Cassius, my sister and I...oh no, a fine man, our Marshal Harris…”

Relieved that Kyle was keeping her secret, Ash rose from her chair and went down the steps to stroke the horse’s muzzle. As she stroked the downy-soft nose of the poor beast, she realized it was going to get harder to maintain her ruse. She reached into her vest and pulled out an apple she’d been saving for Bear. 

“He’ll understand,” she told the tired horse as he lipped the treat. “I’ll get him another after your people have left,” The horse blew out a breath through his nostrils and took the whole apple into his mouth, crunching it between his teeth. “You aren’t doing so good, are you friend?” Harris whispered to him.

The horse shook his head as if he’d understood the question quite well.

Ash waited until the apple had been chewed and swallowed before she patted the horse’s neck gently. “Hang in there, boy.” Then she turned and went into the store.

 

She went to the end of the counter first, noting the man was over in the corner where Kyle kept barrels of nails. His wife was fingering a bolt of printed cloth with a wistful look on her features. The children were gathered by a barrel, looking at a catalog with Cassius. 

Harris lifted the lid of a tall glass jar silently and reached in. She grasped five pieces of stick candy, ensuring one was butterscotch. As she replaced the lid, she caught Kyle’s eye and lifted the candy. He nodded and turned back to his customer by the nails.

“Excuse me, Ma’am,” Ash addressed the woman at the cloth. “I was going to give young Cassius some candy and thought it might be rude not to offer some to the other children. Is it alright with you if they have a piece?”

 

The woman turned her full attention to Ash now.

“Marshal Harris, Ma’am,” Ash removed her hat and smiled. “I was raised to always ask a mother’s permission before offering sweets.”

“Thank you, Marshal. That’s very kind of you,” The woman nodded and brightened just a tad. 

Harris went over to the children, offered Cassius his favorite, then gave each of the others their own candy as well, before finally slipping the butterscotch one into her own mouth. She gave Cassius a wink and then turned and left the store, heading for Doc Krieger’s office across the street.

 

Ali was just opening the door as she followed a woman out of the building. “I understand, Etta, but it’s really for the best.”

A blonde woman, laced tightly into a dark red dress, made eye contact with Ash as she stepped out of the doctor’s building.  “Marshal Harris, how lovely to see you this afternoon! We haven’t seen you at the saloon lately,” She reached out her hand as if she might touch Ash’s shoulder, but stopped short of making contact.

Ash removed her hat again. “Good afternoon, Miss Cardiff. I guess I’ve just not been...thirsty enough.” 

She could see Ali quickly hide a smile behind Etta.

“Do come around soon, Marshal. We’d like the chance to entertain you,” Etta smiled brightly and blinked slowly before turning back to Ali. “Thanks again, Doc.”

“Just remember what I said about...taking it easier, Etta.”

Ali and Ash watched the other woman walk away down the street before Ash settled into one of the chairs that lined the porch.

“You know,” Ali said as she sat down. “Most marshals wouldn’t be caught dead with a stick of candy in their mouths.”

“In case you’ve not noticed, Doc, I am not most marshals,” Ash said with a smile.

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” Ali said quietly.

Ash chuckled before taking the candy stick out of her mouth. “See that rig over at Kyle’s store? Do you know who it belongs to?”

“Sure,” Ali replied as she nodded. “Belongs to the Johnson’s. Why?”

“Does their horse always look that…” Ash searched for the word she wanted.

“Starved?” Ali supplied. “The past few months, they’ve all looked like they fell on hard times. They have a farm out a ways beyond town.”

“When you go out riding to see folks…”

“My rounds, yes?”

“Do you see the Johnsons?”

“I try to, yes.”

“Would you mind if I came with you next time? Might do some of the outlying folks good to know that a marshal is staying in South Pass now.”

“That’s a very good idea. Perhaps the day after tomorrow?”

“Sounds good.” Harris nodded.

“Well, I suppose my letters won’t write themselves,” Ali said as she rose from her chair.

 

Just then four horses came galloping up the main street, their riders hollering and whooping at the top of their lungs.

“Looks like the Andrews brothers got a day off. Your day just got a whole lot more interesting, Marshal,” Ali said with a cheeky smile.

“Oh?”

“They work for the Double Heart cattle ranch, to the west of town. They’re mostly harmless, but they can be loud and impulsive when their money mixes with whiskey. It might be a good idea to go pay Etta and the other girls a visit.”

“At the saloon? But I...I couldn’t possibly…” Ash stammered as she got to her feet.

“Don’t swallow your candy stick, Marshal,” Ali grinned openly now. “I only meant to keep an eye on the Andrews brothers.”

Ash crunched her candy as she grumbled about the cheek of women doctors, her ears turning red as she got to her feet.

A flurry of gunshots from inside the saloon made her step faster down the dusty street.

 

**_To Be Continued!_ **


	2. Chapter 2

Marshal Ash Harris pulled her gloves on as she strode quickly toward the saloon, wondering if maybe Fred White over in Tombstone was on to a good idea. It would take time before she could get folks here to turn in their guns when they came to town. But there was time enough to ponder that later, right now she had to keep her wits about her.

She walked quieter than most in her boots, so no one noticed she was in the saloon until she reached out and took a pistol from one of the newcomers.

“Hey!” He protested as he turned.

“I’m sure you know there are folks upstairs,” Ash said quietly, her voice dropping a little. “So I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t fire your guns off inside. In fact, I’d appreciate it if you’d holster them all.”

“Really?” The cowboy in front of her sneered and then chuckled. “And what’s a half-grown runt like you, without even facial hair yet, gonna do if I refuse?”

Ash was used to people mistaking her gender, and she had long ago learned the benefit of not correcting their error. Over the years, she had turned the circumstance to her advantage. The unlawful men she’d come across frequently assumed, to their regret, that she was no threat.

“Well, this half-grown runt is going to disarm you, that’s what. The way I see it, you have two choices,” Ash glanced around the room and noticed the cowboy’s friends had at least lowered their pistols. “You can either put your guns away, and have a good time here for as long as you’re in town, or I can arrest you for drunk and disorderly and drop your ass in jail until your employer pays your fine and comes to collect you. As I said, it’s your choice.”

 

Etta came to the bottom of the stairs.

“Everyone alright up there, Miss Cardiff?” Ash asked, without taking her eyes off the man in front of her.

“No injuries, Marshal,”

“Good thing or you would have had bigger problems,’ Ash addressed the man whose gun she still held. “Now, do we have an understanding?”

“C’mon Bill, we came into town to have some fun,” one of his friends said. “Not sit in jail. Just put the damn thing away.”

 

Bill’s eyes narrowed slightly and he frowned at the Marshal still holding his gun. “Ordinarily I would whip your ass,” he curled his lip, “But this one time, I guess I’d rather have a drink.”

“See that your gun doesn’t fire again inside South Pass,” Ash spun the gun and offered it to Bill, handle first.

“Sure thing, _Marshal_ ,” Bill said sarcastically as he reclaimed his weapon.

Ash nodded once, ignoring his jibe. Instead, she strolled calmly to the bar.

 

The widow that owned the saloon took out a short glass and began to pour.

“I doubt they got sarsaparilla here!” Bill said loudly to his friends.

Etta shook her head and made her way over to Bill where she grabbed a handful of his shirt. “Come on upstairs with me, darlin’, before you get arrested or shot.”

Bill laughed but followed her up the stairs anyway.

Ash took a drink without a word.

“That one’s always been trouble,” Widow Morgan said. “And that’s before he and his friends get to the bottle.”

“Why do you serve them then?” Ash asked quietly.

“I have to make a living, don’t I? A woman in my position doesn’t have a lot of options,” She put down the bottle and stuck her hand out. “We haven’t been formally introduced yet, Marshal Harris. Folks around here call me Widow Morgan, but you can call me Alex.”

Ash shook the outstretched hand and smiled slightly. “Good to meet you, Ma’am. When you make coffee, is it as good as this whiskey?”

“Even better,” Alex smiled as her hand was released. “Why?”

“Until I have an office, I’ll need somewhere to eat and drink, and I generally don’t have whiskey before dinner. Today being an exception, of course.”

“I’d be happy to keep a pot on the woodstove for you, Marshal. As a matter of fact, my girl can get a plate together for you right now if you’re hungry.”

“Your girl?”

Alex nodded as she returned the bottle to the shelf behind her. “Stephanie. She cleans, cooks and helps out around here. She makes a pretty good meal. You just grab a table and we’ll set ya right up.”

“Thank you,’ Ash smiled and turned to study the large room. She took her glass to a table in the corner and sat with her back to the wall so she could keep an eye on things as she waited.

The saloon’s main doors had been thrown open and sunlight streamed in and illuminated the dust motes that hung in the air. The tables were not all populated, it was still too early in the day for that, but after sunset Widow Morgan would be kept busy. The windows, with real glass, were streak-free, the floor clean and the piano in the corner, like the bar itself, shone with numerous polishings. Sounds from the street wafted in on a fitful breeze, horses neighing, the sound of hammers banging and people talking as they strolled past the saloon. A few of the cowboys on the far side of the room sat down at a table and called out for a bottle, glasses and a deck of cards. Ash sat and sipped her drink slowly, giving more thought to potentially banning guns from being worn in town, as was the law in Tombstone. As she drained her glass, she thought it might be prudent to send a telegram over to Fred White and see how difficult it had been for him to enforce that particular rule.

A young lady brought a mug over to her table then. She had deep brown hair, almost black, green eyes and a shy manner.

“I’m Steph. Alex asked me to bring this out. Your meal will be here shortly.”

“Thank you,” Ash could tell this coffee would be good, just by the smell.

Steph smiled quickly, took the empty glass and turned away. But before she had made it to the back, a young boy dashed in and went to her side. He tugged on her skirt until she bent down so he could whisper in her ear. She listened for a minute, then nodded and held her hand out. He passed her a roll of paper, then turned and dashed out again.

She went on into the back room.

 

Steph came back out shortly with a plate in hand, followed by Alex, who held a poster in one hand and a hammer and tacks in the other. She went to a large square post at the far end of the bar and in no time, had the flyer hung.

“What’s that?” Ash gestured to the poster as Steph put her plate and a fork in front of her.

“Some gent by the name of Captain A.H. Bogardus is putting on a shooting contest out at the Double Heart Ranch next week. Putting up a prize of a thousand dollars to anyone who can beat him.”

“Really? Quite the prize,” Ash commented.

“Could be interesting,” Steph remarked. “Anyway, I’ll be out to get your plate when you’re done.”

“Thank you,” Ash nodded once, but Steph had already turned away.

 

Marshal Harris made short work of her meal which consisted of three eggs, beans and numerous slabs of bacon. She listened to the cowboys talk about the shooting match, they had asked Widow Morgan to read the particulars, they all bragged they could win the contest as easy as breathing. When she was done, she rose and took her plate, fork, and cup up to the bar herself. She paid for her meal and then went to read the poster.

 

**_CONTEST! CASH PRIZE!_ **

**_Capt. Bogardus, shooter of world renown, challenges all who wish to test their shooting skills against him in a contest of sharpshooting on June 3rd, at the Double Heart Ranch._ **

**_Best of 100 glass balls will walk away with $1,000.00._ **

**_Pistols or rifle, shooters choice._ **

Ash turned and left the saloon, standing for a moment on the porch. She took a deep breath and wondered how she’d do in a contest like that. It had been a couple of years since her accuracy had been challenged. She headed for Kyle’s store. She was going to need a few things if she was going to take part in the shooting contest.

 

**_To Be Continued!_ **


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait between updates, but I wanted to do enough research so that I knew what I was writing about as far as the guns were concerned. I always assume that at least one of my readers are smarter than me. So I try and write as accurately as I can. In this chapter's case, that meant research into rifles, pistols, gun belts and currency. Not to mention adoption laws.
> 
> Anyway, those among you itching for some romance get a wee glimpse this chapter. Next chapter things get intense!

Over at the General Store, Marshal Harris found the big room populated by a few people. She wandered among the barrels of nails and crocks full of pickled eggs, studied the baskets of onions and potatoes and finally came across a shelf well-stocked with tinware plates and cups.

“Be right with you, Marshal,” Kyle called out from behind the counter.

“No hurry,” Ash replied as she took down a handful of plates. Then she turned to a shelf that held an assortment of brushes, razors and soap. She chose a good-quality razor and a bar of soap, and put all of it at one end of the counter, ensuring the razor on top could be easily seen. Then she wandered down to the large glass jars of stick candy, pulled out a fistful and added them to her pile. When Kyle finished cutting and wrapping a length of calico for a pair of young women, he made his way down to Ash.

“Sorry about that, Marshal,” Kyle said a little more loudly than necessary. “Plates? You hosting a picnic or something?”

“Nope. Need ‘em for targets. I see you’ve heard about the contest,” Ash jerked her thumb in the direction of the back wall, covered in various advertisements and notices, in the middle of which hung the shooting contest poster.

“You’re going to enter it then?”

“Going to win it,” Ash said. “I’ve seen glass balls in shooting contests before, and they’re only a little smaller than these plates. These’ll do. What do I owe you for the pile?” She ignored the muted, sudden conversation among a knot of men seated around a checkerboard atop a barrel in the corner.

 

Kyle picked up Ash’s things and made his way along the back of the big counter, setting them all down by the register.

“Oh, and a box of .45-70 cartridges for a Lyman 1878, and an arm-length of cotton for bore swabs as well.”

“Sure thing,” Kyle turned and pulled down a length of cotton. “Want one of my arm-lengths or one of yours?” He grinned.

“Yours, thanks,” Ash smiled back and waited as he cut the cotton from the bolt, and then again into hand-sized pieces.

Once everything was wrapped in butcher paper and tied, Kyle rang the whole thing up. “Two dollars.”

Ash dropped four half-dollars into his hand. “Thanks.” Then she picked up her packages and turned to meet the stares of the men on the other side of the store. “Gentlemen,” she said with a nod, and left the store.

* * *

  
  


Supper that evening was ready by the time Kyle, Cassius and Ali came into the cabin.

“What smells so good?” Ali asked as she approached the stove.

“Roast of venison with onions and carrots and biscuits,” Ash replied. She had taken her coat and vest off, and laid out plates on the table.

“Those different pants than I saw you in earlier, Ash?” Kyle only used his friend’s given name at home, and he did not hesitate to do so now.

“Funny story that,” Ash replied as she watched Ali set out cups. “After I got the buck, I went to see if maybe Mrs. Leaman would be willing to trade for some produce. She told me I could have some carrots and onions but the only thing needed doin’ around her place was the barn. So there I was shoveling out the stalls when her cow caught me unawares and pushed me over with her big head!”

Cassius was standing at his chair laughing silently.

Ash grinned widely at the boy. “Yeah, it was pretty ridiculous, me sitting there, shiny badge, two guns on my hips, butt planted in a big ol’ pile of cow droppings...Mrs. Leaman thought it was the funniest thing she’d seen in a long time!”

Everyone was laughing as they sat down, including the red-faced Marshal as she dished out the roast and vegetables she’d worked so hard for.

 

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Kyle exclaimed as they finished up. “After you left this afternoon, the stage came in. You got a parcel.” He strode to the door and went out to the porch where he had set the crate. By the time he had retrieved it, Ali, Ash, and Cassius had cleared the table. Ash pried the top boards off with a small pry-bar Kyle handed her and found a letter sitting atop the wood shavings that protected the box’s contents.

“ _ Dear Ashlyn, _ ” she read aloud as Cassius scrambled to a kneeling position to peer inside the box. “It’s from my Aunt Ellen.”

“ _ Dear Ashlyn, I hope this letter and parcel finds you well. I hear from your Uncle Harding that… _ ”

“Uncle Harding, the judge you sent the telegram to?” Ali asked.

“Yep,” Ash grinned before continuing.

_ “I hear from your Uncle Harding that you have decided to settle in South Pass after taking care of a tyrant there. I am both happy you have stopped rambling and worried for your safety. I always worry about you when you wear that star. I am also mindful that it is your birthday soon. I have decided to ignore the protests I know you will give, and so have enclosed your gift. Please write soon and tell me all about South Pass and the people there. Much love, your Aunt Ellen.”  _

 

“You didn’t tell me it was your birthday soon!” Ali exclaimed with a smile.

“In three days,” Ash nodded as she set the letter aside. She plunged her hand into the crate, rummaged around until she felt something and pulled.

“Oh my…” Ali whispered.

In her hand, Ash held a tooled gunbelt, from which hung two holsters, each holding a pearl-handled pistol. She pulled one gun and admired it for a long moment. “Colt .45 Peacemaker...wow.”

“Matching pieces, I’d say,” Kyle commented in a voice heavy with awe. “Sounds like she knew you’d refuse ‘em.”

“I would have if I’d known she was going to spend as much as she likely did,” Ash replied. “Be that as it may, it would break her heart if I sent them back. Can you reuse the crate, Kyle?”

“You bet!”

“Good,” Ash nodded once and removed the gunbelt she wore, wrapping it around the holster that she knew as well as her horse. She buckled the new one, still a little stiff, around her hips and shifted the holsters to settle them. “They’ll take some time to break in. I don’t suppose she included ammunition?”

Cassius stood on his chair and rummaged in the wood shavings, finally coming up with a box marked .45 Colt Long, which he passed to Ash.

“Nothing else in there, Little Man?”

Cassius shook his head.

“All right, you’d better get down from there,” Ash lifted the boy down from his chair.

“You’d better go milk the cow before she bursts, Son,” Ali said.

Cassius nodded and left the cabin, closing the door behind him.

Ash watched him go. “How old is he now? Nine?”

“Yes, nearly ten,” Ali replied quietly. “There’s a school back East where I’m told he can be taught better communication skills, but I’m selfish, I’m afraid. I can’t bear to send him away.”

“What about teaching him some Indian sign? It would give him something faster than the slate and chalk.”

“I don’t have any experience with that sort of thing.”

“I do. I could teach all three of you, that way, you’d all be on a level playing field.”

Kyle and Ali exchanged a look, and finally, the doctor nodded. “I’d like that, thank you.”

“No trouble,” Ash replied, taking a long look at the dark haired woman across from her.

Kyle lifted the box without a word and left the cabin.

Neither Ash nor Ali noticed. Whiskey brown eyes studied mysterious green ones, dropping only when Cassius returned with the milk.

 

**_To Be Continued!_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to comment and let me know what you thought of this chapter. And if you liked it that much, maybe you'll spread the word about my story?  
> Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out a bit more about Ali and Kyle's past, and things get a little more intense after Ali overhears something she wasn't supposed to!

 

Cassius’ return seemed to break the spell Ash found herself in, and she gave herself a little shake before turning toward what had become her room. She took off her new gunbelt and left it hanging on a peg beside the bed. Then she picked up her gloves and went outside while Ali was busy. She had too much energy to simply sit on the porch, so she went to the woodpile and hefted the ax she found sticking out of the splitting log. Soon enough, she settled into a rhythm and the splits piled up around her.

Finally, she had to stop. As she stood there catching her breath, Kyle showed up and began to pick up the wood she had split. “You know, the last time I saw anyone cut wood with that intensity, they had something on their mind. Missing your family?”

“Something like that, yeah.” She watched him add the splits to the end of an older woodpile. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Does your sister...have her eye on someone?”

 

Kyle glanced over at her.

“It’s just that I’ve never heard her mention anyone, and now with Kennecot gone, she’s free…” Ash realized she was rambling and let her question fade, hoping she didn’t sound as obvious as she felt.

“My sister’s whole life has been a responsible one,” Kyle explained as he lifted an armload of wood. “When our father drowned in a flood, Ali took in sewing to help my mother. I was the man of the house at nine and hated it. Everyone had this expectation that I’d step up and become responsible. I didn’t. I ran off. My sister found me. The whole way home, I refused to speak to her. I didn’t want to grow up. I was offered a job sweeping out the saloon and washing glasses. I refused. Ali worked harder. When our Mother remarried years later, I celebrated by going to Denver, getting drunk and gambling. When I came home, months later, I discovered Ali had gone off to medical school. She worked hard and I drank hard. Our mother had to work incredibly long days to make ends meet and I certainly didn’t help. Ali would write letters home, talking about all the wonderful things she was learning, the friends she was making, and I was making nothing of myself. I would lose my dignity in a bottle and make things even harder for Mother,” Kyle talked while he piled wood until there was nothing left to stack. “One day, Mother took sick and the Doctor told me I’d best summon my sister home because it didn’t look like Mother would last long. She lasted long enough to tell Ali that she loved her, and to look after me. Then she was gone,” Kyle slid his hands into the pockets of his grey trousers. “I was an ass to my sister. We argued and she went back and finished out her medical schooling. When she came home, she packed up our things and a few mementos of my mothers and sold the rest off. We moved out here after I shook off the influence of drink. When I sobered up, I swore I’d be a better brother and a better provider. I grew up, she just kept on being...Ali.”

 

It was the most Ash had ever heard Kyle speak at once.

 

“I’m not proud of how I behaved, but I’m telling you this to show you that my sister isn’t the kind to fall in love. I think she must dream of working hard. So no, she’s shown no interest in anyone,” Kyle walked toward Ash, his voice so low, he’d not be heard from the house. “But if you’ve a mind to figure out if she feels the same way you do, go easy. Even I can’t tell you that.”

Ash sat with a thud on the chopping log.

“I see the way you look at her, Ash. I’m sure she’s seen it too. The fact that she’s not thrown you out says a great deal,” Kyle walked away toward the street and left his friend sitting there deep in thought.

 

Instead of going back inside, Ash went into the barn and gave Bear the best brushing he’d had in days. Then she turned and began to brush the cow. Standing ankle-deep in clean hay, surrounded by the sounds of contented animals eating, she shook her head at herself.

“What am I going to do?” she asked the cow, who turned and looked at her with brown, soulful eyes. “I can’t help but look at her, hell, I want to watch her all the time, but if she’s like any other woman…”

“I’m not,” came a voice from the barn door.

Ash spun toward the door, spooking the cow in the process. “Ah...I’m...how long have you been standing there?”

Ali stepped inside, quiet as a mouse. “Long enough to know why your ears are pink. Why are you brushing the cow?”

“It makes Bear happy, so I thought it would make her happy. Maybe we’d get more milk then?”

“You know, she’s weaning her calf. We’re not likely to get much more from her, no matter how happy she is.”

Ash fiddled with the brush in her hands, “About what you heard...I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Ali said as she took the brush and continued to groom the cow. “I’m not like other women. I know you watch me, I feel your eyes on me. I’m just vain enough to enjoy it I think. You intrigue me, I’ve never known anyone else quite like you,” Ali turned and took slow steps toward Ash. “Out there,” she gestured toward the town. “Out there I have to call you Marshal Harris, but sometimes…” she reached out and stroked Ash’s jaw. “Sometimes, I just want to…”

 

Just then Cassius burst into the barn, eyes full of tears. He ran to Ali, grabbed a handful of her skirt and pulled her back toward the door.

“Hey, Little Man, that was nothing bad, okay?” Ash reached out for the boy.

Cassius shook his head emphatically and tugged all the harder on his adopted mother’s skirt.

“I don’t think he saw anything, Ash, I think this is something more,” Ali said. “Is it the clinic, Cass?”

The boy nodded and tugged once more before leaving the barn on the run.

 

The two women ran after him.

 

**_To Be Continued!_ **


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one for now. The next chapter will be longer. We'll get a peek at the Johnston farm, visit with Bear and watch as he makes a new friend, and tag along with the Marshal as she practices for the shooting contest.

Ash and Ali ran out of the barn and through the yard, startled chickens scattering and squawking their displeasure. Cassius ran ahead of them, through the back door of the clinic that he’d left open in his haste to retrieve Ali. When she reached the main room, her gaze was drawn to her exam table, to a little boy covered in blood. She raised her eyes to find the entire Johnston family staring in shock.

“Help him, please,” His mother begged.

“What happened?” Ali asked as she began to examine the boy.

“He was out collectin’ raspberries like I’d told him to,” His father, August Johnston replied. “I was workin’ in the barn, heard ‘im scream, and a roar. By the time I got to him, the bear was chewin’ on his head…”

“Where is the bear now?” Ash asked.

“I emptied my shotgun into ‘im. He’s still where he dropped. I just grabbed Caleb and we all came in as fast as we could.”

“Clara, hold his shoulders,” Ali directed Caleb’s mother. “Talk to him, try and reassure him as best you can. Cassius, take the children over there, please,” Ali pointed to the far end of the room where they would not have a clear view of their brother’s injuries. “Marshal, there’s a covered tray over there,” Ali jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Leave it covered, but bring it over here. Then draw some fresh spring water out in the backyard, lots of it, not from the barrel.”

 

Ash raced to do her part.

 

“August, hold his ankles. I’m going to knock him out before I can sew him up, but I don’t want to run the risk of him thrashing,” Ali directed as she moved to her cabinet and retrieved the chloroform and a cloth. She pulled the cork from the bottle, poured a bit on the cloth and held it under the boy’s nose. “Clara, hold this here, please.”

While she waited for the chloroform to work, Ali took a large, clean apron from the cabinet and slipped it on over her clothes. Once she was sure Caleb was unconscious, she threaded her needle. 

Ash came dashing back into the room with a large bucket.

“Marshal, I hope you don’t have a weak stomach, because I’m going to need you to be my assistant,” Ali said as she poured whiskey on her hands over a bowl atop the cabinet.

 

“I can do whatever you need,” Ash said simply.

“Good. Come over here and let me pour this over your hands as well. It’ll sterilize and keep the spreading of germs to a minimum.”

They worked quickly, Ash cleaning Caleb’s wounds with the water and Ali stitching them up.

They started with the boy’s head wounds first, where the bear had been chewing. 

“Doesn’t seem to be too much damage to his skull, mostly the flesh,” Ali said quietly. “The arms though...looks like he tried to cover his head with his arms. I’m not sure how much good I can do here…”

The bear had ripped whole hunks of Caleb’s arm off. 

“There’s simply nothing there to sew…”

“Just do the best you can with what you’ve got, Doc,” Ash replied just as quietly.

 

They had to refresh the chloroform twice, and the floor was slick with bloody water, but finally, they had done all they could. The worst injury was not the head wound, but the large piece of missing arm muscle. Ali had covered it with soft bandages, wrapped his stitched wounds in gauze and had Ash and August take the still-unconscious boy upstairs to a room where he could recover undisturbed.

The rest of his family followed.

 

Ash re-joined Ali and Cassius in the main room. “Why don’t you go up and reassure them? His father kept mumbling something about not leaving his boy unsupervised, I think he’s feeling pretty guilty. I’ll clean up down here.”

“Almost two hundred stitches in that small body, Ash,” Ali whispered. “He’s so thin, I’m not sure his body can handle the stress of the attack.”

“I know,” Ash reached out and put her hand on Ali’s shoulder. “Be strong for them. They need that right now. You can fall apart later, at home. I’ll be there for you.”

Ali drew a shuddering breath and nodded. “Thank you.” Then she went upstairs.

 

Ash looked around the room and shook her head at all the blood on the floor. “First thing’s first, I’m gonna need more water and a mop.”

Cassius came back into the room with a bucket of water. 

“Ah, you read my mind, Cass, thanks. Where’s your Mama keep the mop?”

Cassius motioned for the Marshal to follow him and he led the way back down the hall until they came to a small door in the wall. Then he reached out and pulled on a leather strap until the door swung open to reveal a closet full of supplies, including a mop and two more buckets.

“Good, thanks, Little Man,” Ash tousled his hair. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I  know it couldn’t have been easy seeing your friend like that.”

Cass shook his head and reached in to grab one of the buckets.

“Okay then,” Ash nodded once. “Let’s get this done then.”

 

**_To Be Continued!_ **


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter didn't quite go as expected.
> 
> TW: A minor character death takes place in this chapter, but I promise it's not graphic. I also tried to hold down anything that would cause you, my reader, any trauma.

When Ash finished cleaning the clinic, she suggested to Cassius that they go visit his Uncle’s store and see if there was some stick candy in need of eating.

They left together, Ash silent and mulling over a thought.

 

The store was empty of customers. Kyle sat at a desk in a corner behind the counter, working on something. He looked up when he heard Ash’s boots as she climbed the steps and came into the store.

“Your nephew and I are in need of a stick, Kyle. Put it on my account, wouldya?” Ash said as she took the lid off the jar. “Here, Cass...grape okay?”

The youngster nodded and mouthed ‘ _ thank you _ ’.

“You’re welcome. You take that out to the porch and let your Uncle and I chat, alright?”

Kyle rose and came to the counter and leaned on it as his nephew went out to find shade on the porch. “What’s up?” 

“One of the Johnston kids was mauled pretty badly by a bear. I helped Ali patch him up as best I could but if he recovers it’ll be because of her skill. Cassius came to get her, then stayed with the other two kids. He watched everything though...I’m worried it might affect him. Has he seen any of his friends that bloodied up before?”

Kyle shook his head. “Cass doesn’t really have any friends...I guess it’s too hard for other kids to communicate with him. The Johnston kids were acquaintances at best, I’m afraid. But, no, I don’t think he’s ever been exposed to the amount of blood there must have been.”

“He insisted on helping me clean up, so I thought I’d treat him to some candy. I figure he deserves it after the evening he’s had,” Ash said.

 

Kyle looked out the door at the fading sun, “Which one?”

“Of the kids?” Ash turned to look at her friend. “Eldest boy, Caleb.”

Kyle shook his head again. “August leaned on him pretty hard for help. They were barely making it before. August used to raise some of the best hay this area has, but the last couple of summers...I don’t know if his land has gone sour or what, but he hasn’t been able to grow hay to save his life. Times just get harder and harder for that family, and now this...”

Ash sighed heavily. “Sun’s going down...you going to close up soon?”

“May as well do it now.”

“I’ll take Cassius home with me. Last time I saw your sister, she was upstairs over the clinic with the Johnston’s.”

“I’ll stop in and see them on my way home.”

“Before you do that,’ Ash reached into her pocket and took out some money. “Would you swing by the saloon and see if Widow Morgan can scare up some supper for them? I don’t think they got much to eat today.” She stacked a few half-dollars on Kyle’s counter.

“I’m sure she’ll find something when she hears who it’s for.”

“Good,” Ash nodded. “We’ll meet you back at the cabin.” Out on the porch, she turned to the boy she was growing fond of. “C’mon, Cass, let’s go home and tuck Bear in for the night.”

 

As they crossed the road, she put her hand on his shoulder gently. “It’s okay if you’re upset or bothered by what happened to the Caleb earlier, it’s not an easy thing to see.”

Cassius looked down as they walked and nodded slightly.

“I know you can’t just talk about it, but if you want to write it out on your slate…”

Cass shook his head slowly as they walked down the alleyway beside the clinic.

“Okay. If you change your mind, that’ll be fine too.”

 

Instead of going straight into the cabin, they headed for the barn, where Bear greeted them with a soft wicker. Ash picked up the brush from where it had fallen and set it on the shelf, and set a flake of hay in the cow’s trough. Then she turned to light the lantern. As she was hanging it from a hook on the wall, she heard a soft gasping sound behind her.

She turned to find Cassius with his back to her, and his forehead leaning against Bear’s shoulder. It took a second to understand, but when she heard his quick breath and saw his shoulders jerk, she knew.

Bear turned his head and settled it gently over the boy’s shoulder as if hugging him in the only way the horse knew how.

Ash crossed the barn and stood on Cassius’ other side and put her hand on his shoulder, resting her other one on Bear’s back. They stood that way until the youngster had cried himself out.

When he had stepped back and dried his face on his sleeve, Ash fed Bear his flake of hay and patted his neck, telling him what a good horse he was. Cassius nodded and hugged Bear’s neck before leaving the barn. Ash took the lantern down, gave Bear and the cow a pat on the neck each and left the barn.

 

By the time Kyle came in well after dark, Ash had started a small fire in the stove - just enough to heat coffee, and made sure Cassius was tucked into bed. Ali sent word back with her brother that she would be staying at the clinic to watch over Caleb during the night. Widow Morgan had told her girls upstairs that there would be no entertaining of customers, and she put the Johnstons up in her room for the night so that they could remain close by. Soon after bringing Ash up to date, Kyle went to bed as well.

Deep in thought, Ash used the time to clean her guns - new and old.

 

Some time in the middle of the night, Ash woke abruptly. She laid still and listened, but heard nothing at first. Just as she was about to fall back asleep, she heard a soft keening, far off, but near. She sat up with a bad feeling in her guts and pulled her pants on quickly. She tucked her shirt in, pulled up her suspenders and pulled her socks on as quickly as she could in the dark. Fairly sure she wouldn’t need her guns or badge, she picked up her boots and carried them across the cabin and out the door. On the porch, she stopped long enough to pull them on, then strode across the dark yard to the back door of the clinic.

 

She hadn’t made it all the way upstairs when a wail split the air, so full of anguish, loss and heartbreak, that she knew immediately what had happened. One step inside confirmed her worst suspicions. Clara Johnston was kneeling beside the bed grasping her son’s hand, rocking on her knees, sobbing her eldest son’s name over and over. August Johnston stood by, worrying his hat in his hands, just staring at the bed.

Ali came to the door, turning away from the grieving and stunned parents, and pulled Ash out into the hall a little way.

“Do you know who Amos Carpenter is?” she asked in a hushed voice.

“You need him here, I’m guessing?”

Ali nodded. “Please. But have him wait in the sitting room at the back. I’ll come get him.”

“You don’t want the parents to see him, I get it,” Ash said. “No problem.”

“Thanks. I should go back in.”

Ash nodded and went back down the stairs and out into the street.

 

The main street was deserted as she made her way down the middle of the dusty street. They needed rain, and soon. It was far too warm for the middle of the night, and she knew heat could make people crazy. The heart of South Pass wasn’t very big and in a minute she was knocking on Amos Carpenter’s door.

“All right, all right, Amos is comin’,” She heard muttering from the other side of the wood.

When the door opened, she looked down into the warm brown eyes of a short man scoured by years past.

“You’re the Marshal, ain’t ya?” He rasped.

“That’s right. The Doc needs you…” She pointed back up the street.

“Johnston boy didn’t make it?”

“No, sir.”

“Damn…” he reached back and plucked his hat from a peg on the wall and came outside, pulling his door closed behind him. “C’mon.” He beckoned with a crooked finger and Ash followed him to an outbuilding. 

“Good thing it’s a full moon tonight. Wouldn’t be able to see your boots if it were cloudy…” Amos rambled on as he pulled the door open. “How big was the boy?”

Ash held her hand up to her armpit. “About here, I guess.”

“Close enough,” Amos nodded once and strode into the dim building. ‘C’mon, Marshal, Amos can’t carry this thing hisself, even if it is too small.”

Ash followed the sound of his muttering until her eyes adjusted to the moon-lit interior. She found him standing beside a plain pine coffin.

“Let’s go then. Grab the rope handle and lift.” Amos said.

Ash did her part and in no time, they were at the back door of the clinic.

 

Once Ali had convinced the grieving parents that she would do right by their son, they returned to their borrowed quarters over the saloon. She opened the back door, and Ash and Amos carried the short coffin up the stairs. 

Not long after, the Marshal and the Undertaker carried the coffin back down the dark street to await a funeral.

 

_**To Be Continued** _


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we go out to the Johnston farm for a visit

  
Two days after the funeral, Ali decided she would pay a visit to the Johnstons. She asked Kyle to kill and pluck their oldest chicken, and soon enough the old hen with one brown feather on her back did her part to feed a family who had fallen on hard times.

Ash loaded a few extra bales of hay into the wagon, along with a sack of cracked corn and a few apples. Bear silently watched her walk back and forth until he saw the red curve of an apple sticking out of a bucket. Then he let out a whinny.

“Relax, I’m leaving lots for you,” Ash said as she came back into the barn. “But that horse doesn’t get treats like you do. I’m not even sure he eats as often as you do. You aren’t going to deny him a few apples and some hay, are ya’?” She rubbed Bear’s neck as she spoke, and he stamped one foot in reply.

“Alright then. You know that you’re going to have to pull the wagon, right?”

Bear shook his head and blew a mighty breath out his nose.

“Ya don’t have to blow horse snot on me!” Ash wiped off her shoulder with a grimace. “Who did you think was going to pull it? Kyle?”

Bear pulled his upper lip back from his teeth and whinnied again.

“Yeah, that would be a funny sight, but it’s not going to happen. So just get over it. Even a Marshal’s horse isn’t above helping out, you hear me?”

Bear hung his head for a second before finally tossing it up and down.

“Okay then. I’m glad we had that chat,” Ash patted his neck and continued on to the wagon. 

Before long, there was feed for the Johnston’s horse and chickens in the back, along with the hen and a pot of homemade beans. 

 

Kyle helped his sister up onto the seat as Ash watched Cassius scramble up and find a place among the load. 

“Ready back there?” Kyle called out as he took his place and picked up the reins.

“He’s well set,” Ash confirmed. “Though I feel a little odd riding back here instead of on Bear,” She said quietly to the boy at her side.

Cassius grinned widely.

 

The Johnston place was a study in sadness.

Ash could see half-grown grain stalks bent over in the field beside the road as if they were just too tired to go on. Beneath them, she spotted a grey-brown soil that looked spent and unhealthy. The split-rail fence sagged in some places and the weather-faded barn leaned a little to one side, just waiting for a stiff wind to knock it over. Kyle pulled Bear to a stop outside the house, and it was plain that the dwelling had seen no care in some time. Paint peeled in long curls from the boards, one shutter hung from a broken hinge and weeds surrounded the steps. A neglected garden of pale weeds spoke volumes.

 

Ash helped Cassius down, who took the bag of cracked corn. Kyle helped Ali down, and she went to speak to Mrs. Johnston who had just stepped out onto the porch.

“Good morning, Clara. We thought we’d stop by for a visit, I hope you don’t mind. We brought some things…” Ali adjusted her dress as she turned toward the wagon.

“Is August about?” Kyle asked.

“He’s out in the barn, I expect you’ll find him there,” Clara answered.

Ash nodded and gave Bear a pat on the neck before lifting a bale from the back of the wagon. Kyle took the bag of cracked corn and the apples and led the way toward the barn.

August came out to meet them.

 

“Hullo..what’s all this?” he asked.

“Women always bring food for the grieving, but we thought perhaps the animals might like some attention too. The Marshal here is a big animal lover,” Kyle explained. “Forgive me, my manners are lacking, August Johnston, this is Marshal Ash Harris.”

“Yes, we’ve met,” August nodded. “The night of…” he couldn’t finish.

“Over at the clinic,” Ash finished with a nod of her own. “Anyway, we’ve brought some gifts of our own...for the animals.”

August looked from Kyle to Ash, and back again. “That was nice, thank you.” Then he seemed to remember they were standing outside and turned back toward the unsafe looking barn. “Excuse the condition, it needs some attention, and there just aren’t enough hands here capable of doing heavy work.”

 

Ali and Clara watched the other three adults go into the barn before Ali seemed to give herself a shake. “I brought some things...a hen and some beans. If you’d like, I can start the hen now, and perhaps you can rest a bit. I know I always appreciate when Kyle cooks, it’s nice to have an evening off.”

“I haven’t had an evening to rest since my youngest was born,” Clara replied.

“Then I’d say you are due one!” Ali smiled warmly as she picked up the heavy pot of beans. “Now, which way to the stove?”

Clara called to her children and told them they could show Doc Krieger’s son around, but to stay within shouting distance. After a chorus of “Yes, Ma’am,” Clara showed Ali inside.

 

She had been here before of course, when the youngest was born, and when the middle child had caught influenza a few years ago. The cabin hadn’t changed much since, the only addition was the heavy pall of grief that hung in the air like a sorrowful smoke.

“Excuse the condition of the house…” Clara began.

“Nonsense, we didn’t come to look at your house, but visit with you,” Ali explained.

“It’s not often we get visitors anymore. Would you like some tea?” Clara brightened a little.

“That would be nice, thank you.” Ali nodded as she set the pan down with the hen. Then she spotted a bit of sewing on the table. “Is that a nine patch block?”

“It is. I started it last week. I meant to make new quilts from the children’s outgrown clothes, but…” Clara’s lip quivered slightly.

“It’s all right, I understand. Grief can bear down on us and keep us from thinking we’ll ever be happy again.” Ali took Clara Johnston’s hand in her own. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get the tea?”

 

Out in the barn, Ash set the bale of hay down and used her pocket knife to cut the twine. Then she pulled off a flake and set it in the feed tray just inside the horse’s stall.

“What’s his name?” She asked.

“The children named him Aladdin. Like us, he’s seen better days, I’m afraid.”

“Nothing some good grain and a few apples won’t fix,” Ash smiled. “Mind if I go in?” She gestured to the stall.

“Go ahead,” August replied.

Ash eased inside the stall, speaking in a low voice to the horse, telling him what a handsome horse he was. He side-eyed her and sniffed at the hay.

“You know you want some,” Ash told him quietly as she studied his feet, his coat and took notice of how skinny he was. His feet were cared for, but it was obvious he wasn’t eating enough. She suspected the same could be said for the whole family. 

“He was a handsome creature in his prime,” August said wistfully as he watched Ash take the curry brush off a shelf.

As Ash began to brush Aladdin, the germ of an idea came to her. “You’ve heard about the shooting contest, I’m guessing?”

“I have.”

“Have you also heard that I aim to not only enter the contest but win it as well?”

“You’re the talk of the town.”

“Are you very familiar with weapons?” Ash asked him.

“Why?” August was nothing if not straight-forward.

“Well, I’ll need a reloader and another throw-boy. Cassius will be my primary, but I’ll need another so he doesn’t wear his arm out. I’d ask Kyle to be my re-loader man but with all the folks coming to the area for the contest, he’ll be busier than usual at the store. I’d be willing to pay both you and your son a dollar an hour each for the duration of the contest, as well as a half-dollar for practices.”

“Why would you do that?” August narrowed his eyes a little. “I’m no charity case, you understand.”

 

Ash continued to brush Aladdin calmly. “I wouldn’t want to imply anything of the sort. I still don’t know very many folks around town, that’s all. I need a second thrower and a reloader. It’s not charity, I expect it will be hot, dirty, sweaty work and work like that should be paid for properly. Think it over, talk to your boy and let me know. But I am running out of days to practice.”

  
  
  


When the hen was cooked, Ali called out to her family and declared it was time to go so the Johnston’s could eat in peace. Goodbyes were said and the two families parted company.

 

“That new Marshal’s not too bad,” August said to his wife as they watched the wagon pull away. “Not many men would let his horse pull a wagon. He offered Jed and I some work too.”

“Really?” she replied.

“Yep. Wants Jed to be his second throw-boy for the shooting contest next week, and me to be his reloader. He’s a different sort, that Marshal. Not the usual man for a job like that.”

“I suspect he’s more unusual than you expect, August,” Clara smiled a little for the first time in days. “We’d best get in and eat before the chicken and beans go cold.”

 

**_To Be Continued!_ **

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am writing an original Western Romance while I'm writing this bit of FF, and I'm wondering if any of you might like to be beta readers for me when the first draft is complete. I'd be looking for feedback on readability, if the story was interesting and overall feedback. If this sounds like something that might be something you would enjoy, feel free to drop me an email at  
> dragonquillca@gmail.com
> 
> In the meantime, there will be another chapter of Under A Bright Moon coming soon


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little planning, and then some quiet tenderness for the romantics among you.

 

The day after the visit Ash asked Kyle to mention they were gathering men for a work party to fix up August Johnston’s barn, as well as collect any manure folks wanted to get rid of.

 

One of Kyle’s customers nodded once he’d heard what Kyle had to say. 

“Johnston used to have all he needed to spread on his fields, but with that drought a couple of years ago, he had to sell off his cattle. No cattle, no manure, meant nothing to spread on the field to keep the soil rich.” A small knot of men had gathered around the checkerboard that had been brought out to the porch, and these same men nodded in agreement. “I’ve been farming my land ever since my Pa left it to me,” continued the speaker. “And since I’m goin’ on sixty now and have some of the best forage this side of the river, I think I know what I’m talkin’ about. Yep, August Johnston needs the help of his neighbors, that’s for sure. It’s only right that we do what we can, and I think we can all spare some shit, don’t you, boys?”

Every man there nodded in agreement.

“That’s a good idea you had there, Kyle.”

“Well, Henry, I can’t take credit, it was the Marshal’s idea,” Kyle said from his chair on one side of the barrel. He moved his piece and said, “King me.”

 

Henry did as he’d been asked, leaned to one side and spit some tobacco juice. “The Marshal’s idea you say? Hmm, guess there’s more to our Marshal Harris than we first guessed.”

Kyle had to bite his tongue to keep from chuckling at the truth behind the secret.

“Has a day been settled on to do the work?” Another man asked.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to wait too long,” Kyle said as Henry made his move on the checkerboard. “When we were out there, it looked like the barn might fall over with us in it!”

“How about the day after tomorrow?” Henry suggested. “That’ll give the womenfolk a day to bake and such. I expect if we all take some food, blankets and such, we can make it like a proper barn-raisin’ picnic.”

“I got some extra whitewash, Kyle. Think they might like some?”

“That’d be nice, Reid,” Kyle nodded up at the barber’s son. “The house needs some attention too. Hell, the whole damn place looks like it’d fall over in a stiff wind. I know August is a hard worker and too proud to ask for help, but he’s short-handed now and still grieving. I’m not sure he’s even got enough feed to see the stock through.”

“I’ve got some cracked corn I can’t use since the weasel got our chickens,” one of the men said.

“They got a cow for milk, Kyle?”

“I don’t recall seeing one, Tom.”

“I can spare one of our milkers. Children need milk to grow on,” Tom concluded with a short nod. 

 

And so it was settled that the townsfolk of South Pass would gather and do what they could to get the Johnston’s back on their feet again.

 

* * *

That night, Ash was sitting out on the porch of the cabin watching the sky slip from flaming gold to dusky tones of purple and black when the door opened and Ali stepped quietly out.

“Mind if I join you?”

“I’d enjoy it.”

“Cassius is asleep and Kyle is making out an order for the store, so I thought perhaps I’d be able to have you all to myself for a little while,” Ali said. “What we were talking about in the barn before we had to rush off for Caleb...I wanted you to know that I don’t regret saying the things I did. I meant every word. Sometimes I wish we could go off, just the two of us...share a picnic maybe and a quiet afternoon getting to know one another,” Ali reached out a hand at the same moment Ash did, and as their fingers brushed against each other, the doctor tightened her grip and held fast.

“I’d enjoy that,” Ash said simply before continuing. “I was pondering relieving folks of their assumptions, but I don’t think there’s any benefit in that route.”

“We couldn’t pursue anything between us, if that’s what you wanted,” Ali said. “Folks here are a lot of things, but I don’t see them being tolerant of both a female Marshal and that same Marshal and the town doctor carrying on in a domestic way. As it was, I faced an uphill battle getting them to accept a woman doctor.” 

“But you’re theirs now. The folks I’ve seen interact with you seem right attached.”

“And it’ll happen for you too,” Ali gave Ash’s hand a little squeeze. “I heard about the work party you’re organizing. Kyle has been sure to tell everyone it was your idea. Folks are looking at you in a different light now.”

 

“My Aunt Ellen is a lucky woman,” Ash said after a few minutes of silence. “She inherited the ranch, she’s got a voice on their local council and no one judges her. Folks think she took in her companion, Widow Shaw, out of kindness. No one questions two widows making their way through life. But we couldn’t do that.”

“Yet,” Ali added. “Perhaps one day.”

“I don’t see a way we could. Not if I was to tell folks who I really was. No, I think I’ll always have to be the Marshal who can’t grow a beard. But it won’t be all bad if I can look forward to the possibility that I could pay you a bit more attention.”

Ali chuckled. “That was the most left-handed way I’ve yet heard of expressing an interest in a woman.” The sound of Kyle walking across the floor carried on the night air and Ali gave Ash’s hand a final squeeze before letting go. “Any woman would cherish that kind of attention.”

“Would you?”

“I’d be right jealous if it were directed toward anyone else,” Ali replied.

 

Ash sighed as the cabin door opened and Kyle stepped out balancing three cups of coffee in his hands.

 

**_To Be Continued!_ **


	9. Chapter 9

  
  


“Thank you for your help today, Jed,” Ash addressed the youngster who walked beside Cassius. “I think you did real well. You feel a little more confident about reloading now, August?”

“I am,” August Johnston nodded as the four of them walked back toward the cluster of buildings that was South Pass.

They had been out on a slight rise about a half mile from the town so that Jed and Cassius could practice throwing targets for Ash so that she might be ready for the shooting contest. August had practiced reloading the Marshal’s rifles so that he didn’t “look a fool”, as he’d said.

“Do you think your chances are good, Marshal?” August asked.

“As good as anyone else, I expect. If nothing else, it’ll be a nice day out for folks.” Ash replied as she passed the man a half-dollar. “Thank you for putting aside your work on your homestead to help me out today. Here Cass, take Jed down to your Uncle’s store and get a candy stick on me, alright?”

 

“I ought to be the one thanking you for arranging that work-party the other day,” August replied as he watched the boys run the remaining distance toward town. “You didn’t have to do that. With all the folks that showed up, the barn got fixed, the house got whitewashed, the fields and garden got plowed and fertilized and we’ve got enough food left over to last for a few days. It means a whole lot to Clara and I, truly.”

Ash shrugged. “I just did what I could. I’m glad it’ll help.”

When they reached the cabin Ali’s cabin, August passed over Ash’s second rifle and retrieved his horse from the barn. “Aladdin and I will go pick up Jed from the store,” he said as he patted the horse’s neck. “So we’ll meet up out at the Double Heart tomorrow?”

“You bet,” Ash nodded. “Lookin’ forward to it.”

“Me too. See you then,” August swung into the saddle and headed off to find his son.

 

Ash let the cow (who had been named Cow) and Bear out into the corral, and gave them each a pat on the neck and left a flake of hay for them to share. Then she took her guns into the house and set her rifles on the rack on the wall before setting out to patrol the town. No sooner had she emerged from the walkway beside the clinic than she was hailed.

“Marshal! Marshal Harris!” Etta Cardiff was waving as she nearly ran to Ash. 

Ash turned and strolled in the blonde woman’s direction.

“Marshal, we haven’t seen you at the saloon in the past couple of days,” Etta smiled.

Ash took her hat off as she replied, knowing a lawman would be expected to do so. “I’ve been trying to help out with morning chores a little more over at Doc Krieger’s, Ma’am, it’s nothing personal.”

Etta smiled sweetly and laid her hand on Ash’s, still clutching her hat. “That’s very nice of you. Doc Krieger has been good to all of us, but I miss you, Marshal. Won’t you come up and have dinner with me sometime? I feel positively ignored.” Etta pouted a little.

“No one could ignore you in that pretty blue dress, Miss Cardiff. I’ve just been busy, that’s all,” Ash smiled hesitantly. “If you’ll excuse me, Ma’am, I need to see the Doc on some official business.”

“Of course. Don’t be a stranger, Marshal. A woman gets lonely, you know.”

As Etta strolled away, Ash put her hat back on, secretly doubting that a woman in that line of work was lonely for company. She shook her head and turned toward the clinic door.

 

Inside the clinic, Ali was winding bandages with a little smile on her face. “You know she wants you, right?”

“No, she wants the Marshal. I’ve no interest in her though,” Ash said as she removed her hat again. “My eye is on someone else.”

Ali blushed, and she ducked her head, but Ash saw her bright smile. “All alone?”

“Yes, thankfully, the rooms upstairs are empty. I thought I’d prepare a bag for tomorrow, just in case anyone needs medical attention.”

“There’s always one fool who grabs a hot gun barrel at this sort of thing,” Ash nodded as she sat down in a chair across from Ali.

“You’ve been to one of these before then?”

“A few.”

“As a spectator, or competitor?”

“Competitor. Did alright too, but it’s been a couple of years. I’m rusty.” Ash stood up from the chair and peered out the window, leaning on the sill.

“You seem unsettled,” Ali put the bandage down and leaned on the wall beside Ash. “Are you nervous?”

“Not so much, more...anxious to get it over with I suppose,” Ash shot her a glance and took a breath to say something more, but a man ran out of Kyle’s store and jumped off the porch, followed by Kyle himself.

“Stop!”

The man took off up the street.

Ash handed Ali her hat and was out the door in a flash.

 

Out in the street, Kyle pointed at the man’s receding back. “Thief!”

Ash’s right hand reached down and plucked one of her brand new Colts. “Stop right there or I’ll shoot your foot off!”

Ash lifted her gun and fired into the dirt a few feet behind the fleeing man.

Wisely, he abruptly stopped and put his hands up.

“Smart man, now walk back toward me, keep your hands where I can see them,” Ash called out. “Kyle, what did he steal?”

“Can of peaches.”

Ash silently watched the man walk slowly down the street. He wore no guns, and as he got closer, she could see holes in the knees of his pants, which were too short by a noticeable amount. A breeze lifted his shirt slightly and she could see he was thinner and younger than she first expected, and the elbows of his shirt were worn through.

“Put your hands down. What’s your name?”

“Gerald, sir.” The young man replied with wide eyes.

“Marshal will do,” Ash corrected him, catching a glimpse of Kyle covering the beginnings of a grin. “Where’s the can of peaches you took, Gerald?” Ash asked as she holstered the pistol.

“I dropped it when your gun went off.”

“Why’d you take it in the first place?” Kyle asked as a young girl came down the street to return the can. “Thank you.”

“Was hungry,” Gerald mumbled.

Conscious of the townspeople watching, Ash pulled a half-dollar from her pocket and flipped it to him. “Go get a meal at the saloon. Tomorrow, get yourself out to the Double Heart Ranch. I expect with all the people there for the shooting contest you might find yourself some work. I don’t want to find ourselves having another meeting like this again. Understand?”

“Thank you, Marshal!” The young man moved off quickly toward the saloon as Kyle began to chuckle. 

“Sir…”

“Shut up,” Ash muttered with a grin and shoved him toward his store before turning back toward the clinic. 

 

**_To Be Continued!_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time...the shooting contest!


	10. Chapter 10

 

The morning of the shooting competition, Ash was up before the sun. She had cleaned her rifles and her pistols, and triple-checked that she had all the ammunition she thought she might need, as well as extra swabs and gun oil. She had just started filling the picnic basket when Ali came into the main room, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes and tying her dressing gown around her.

“Morning,” Ash said as she passed a steaming cup of coffee to the doctor.

“Thanks,” Ali replied as she eyed the pile on the table. “You look ready to go. Did you get any sleep?”

“Very little actually,’ Ash smiled. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m almost a bag of nerves, it’s been so long.”

“You’ve been practicing,” Ali dismissed the Marshal’s concerns with a wave of her hand. “I’ve seen you shoot. You have nothing to worry about.”

“You have?”

Ali said nothing as a blush crept across her face. When Ash turned toward the stove to fill her own cup, Ali studied her carefully. She was wearing deerskin colored pants this morning, her dark leather braces looped over her shoulders and a black shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Even though she was already wearing her boots, she made no noise as she crossed the room and sat down across from Ali.

“When you win today, we should celebrate.”

“You can’t know that I’ll win. Captain Bogardus is a world champion,” Ash turned her cup between her hands, gaze steadfastly on the dark liquid within.

“I have faith in you,” Ali shrugged before taking a drink of her coffee. “Like I said, I’ve seen you shoot. Besides, rumor in town is that Bogardus isn’t as good as he says he is. Some are saying that he’s lost more matches than he admits to.”

“Hmm. Well, I suppose we’ll see if he’s lost his edge or not later today.”

Ali drained her cup and rose from her chair. “I’m going to get dressed, then I’ll finish packing the basket.” She moved around the table, stopping behind Ash’s chair and leaned over so her upper body rested lightly against the Marshal’s shoulders and her mouth was a hair’s width away from her cheek. “If you need some incentive to win that contest, ponder this… If you win, I’ll take you out to my favorite very...private...spot and show you something special.” Her lips grazed Ash’s cheek softly before she straightened and went to her room.

“How am I supposed to concentrate  _ now _ ?” Ash said.

Ali chuckled mischievously as she closed her door.

  
  
  


When they finally pulled Bear to a stop under a large, shady oak tree on the Double Heart ranch, Cassius’ eyes grew wide as he took in all the people, horses and sounds. Ash jumped down from the buggy’s seat and tied Bear off to the rope strung as a makeshift hitching post. There was another family’s rig there as well.

“Look at that, Bear, you can make a new friend,” Ash said quietly as she rubbed her horse’s nose.

Bear whickered softly in reply.

“I’ll be back in a little while to give you some water, okay?” Ash gave his neck a pat and joined the others at the back.

“Big crowd,” Kyle observed.

“Cass, you can run and play with the other children if you’d like,” Ali said.

In response, Cass glommed onto Ash.

“It’s okay,” Ash said with a smile, as she made first an “o” with her fingers and then the legs of a “k”.

“What was that?” Kyle asked.

“Sign language for ‘okay’,” Ash replied.

“Do that again? If this is going to be our first sign lesson, I want to be sure to get it right,” Ali said as she put the basket on the ground.

After making sure the three of them were all making the sign correctly, Ash nodded and turned back to the buggy to pull her saddlebags out and onto Cassius’ shoulder. “Cass can be my second for the day.”

“Are you sure?” Ali spoke quietly from very close beside Ash.

“Ali, this is probably the most people he’s ever seen in his life. It’s loud, confusing and for him, probably scary. He’ll be fine with me,” Ash replied just as softly so Cass wouldn’t hear and get embarrassed. 

“Just don’t forget our conversation this morning,” Ali replied before bending to pick up the basket and ruffling Cassius’s hair. “Come on, Kyle, let’s go find a shady spot.”

“We’ll find you,” Ash said as she picked up her two rifle scabbards. “Let’s go figure out this setup, Cass.”

 

As the two of them made their way over to a red tent flapping in the slight breeze, they were joined by August and Jed Johnston.

“Morning, Marshal.”

“August,” Ash nodded. “Any idea where registration is?”

“In the tent,” Her loading-man pointed. “I checked things out earlier. You go in there, give your name and particulars of your weapons, and pay your entrance fee. Then you go over to the field and pick your lane.”

“Lane?” Ash repeated as she watched the breeze lift a tent flap.

“They’ve got lanes marked off with chalk out there, twelve of them. Here, let me hold your guns while you go in and register.” August held out his hands. “We’ll wait here for you, right boys?”

The boys both nodded and Ash went into the tent.

 

Not long after Ash had taken care of the details, a short, barrel-shaped man got up on a platform and raised his hands for silence. Once the chatter died down and he had everyone’s attention, his voice rang out clear and strong.

“Shooters! Your attention! Now that you’ve all paid your entrance fee, it’s time to set out the rules of this match. As advertised, the shootist who hits one hundred glass balls will win one thousand dollars. If more than one of you hit all one hundred of your targets, there will be further rounds of ten balls until only one man remains!”

Someone off to his left cleared their throat and the man looked down.

“My apologies, Miss. I should have said until one shooter remains.”

“Thank you,” the mystery woman replied.

“You may shoot at your own pace, within reason, but this contest concludes before dark unless more than one shooter remains. You may use either automated ball-throwers or human ones, your choice. I’ll stop now and let the champion himself say a few words...Captain Bogardus!”

 

Bogardus was thin and tall. He played with his dark mustache while he spoke.

“Thank you, Nate. I recognize some of you,” His gaze slid over the shooters that had come to compete, but his attention settled on Ash. “Some of you, I’ve not had the pleasure of shooting against. I look forward to a fine day of shooting and sportsmanship! Good luck to you all, you’re going to need it!” With that, he jumped down to a flurry of handshakes.

Ash watched him for a moment before leading her little crew off toward the field.

  
  


By the time she had unpacked her rifles, reloading supplies and cleaning kit, August had returned with two men and a handcart. In the cart was a barrel.

“One hundred glass balls, all amber colored,” One of the men grunted as he helped offload the barrel. “We’ll come ‘round to collect the barrel after it’s all over.”

Ash recognized him as one of the fellows from the saloon days before when she had disarmed Bill, but she only nodded her thanks.

As the men took the handcart away, she heard him ask his companion, “You know who that was? That’s the marshal!”

“Did I hear those men correctly?” A loud voice behind her asked. “You’re a marshal?”

Ash turned to find Bogardus standing a few steps away. He crossed the distance with his hand outstretched.

She shook his hand, smiling. “Adam Bogardus, it’s been a while.” She said quietly enough that no one else standing nearby could overhear.

“Your Aunt Ellen sends her regards,’ he replied just as quietly. “I was there just last week.”

“How is she?”

“She misses you, but she’s hale and hearty, as you’d expect.” He smiled behind his mustache. “She talked of you almost all the time but never mentioned you were a marshal now.”

“Well, some things need to remain a secret,” Ash said with a shrug. “Will you join us for lunch when it comes time?”

“Ah yes, Ellen did say you had your eye on a young lady. I would be most honored to meet her. Might I have your permission to flirt with the lass? For appearance sake, of course.”

“I’ll try and rein in my jealousy,” Ash smiled.

 

Adam turned his attention to Ash’s rifles, laying oiled, loaded and ready on their scabbards. “Matching 1878 Lyman-Pedersoli’s...a handsome pair. What’s the stock?”

“Curly maple,” Ash replied. “From the same tree.”

“I see Ellen took my recommendation for your birthday gift,” Adam’s gaze lifted to Ash’s pistols on hips. “How do you like them?”

“Once I got used to them, they felt like an extension of my arms. Please tell her I’m enjoying them greatly.”

“You may have to write and tell her yourself, I’m afraid. I’m leaving tomorrow for England, for a shooting contest tour there. But I look forward to lunch. I’ll set up now.” He shook Ash’s hand again and moved off to his lane, two to Ash’s right.

  
  


By the time the lunch break was called, a quarter of the shooters had dropped out due to repeated misses. Each shootist had an official counter stand behind them to track accuracy. Ash ensured the barrels of both rifles were clear before she handed one to August. They swabbed out the barrels before running a patch lightly coated in oil down each.

“You haven’t missed a single ball out of fifty, Marshal Harris,” said Ash’s count official as he stepped forward to shake hands. “You’re giving old Bogardus a run for his money, for sure. See you after lunch, back here in two hours.”

“Thanks very much,” Ash said.

“I’m going to have lunch with Clara and the kids,” August said as he slid one of the now-cool Lyman rifles into its scabbard. “I’ll meet you back here before the two hours is up.”

“You bet,” Ash replied. She turned to find Bogardus striding toward her with a small smile. “Ready to eat?”

“I could eat as much as ten men,” he replied. “Lead on, before we starve to death.”

Ash laughed as she watched Cassius race toward the willow his Mama and Uncle had chosen to set their picnic under. “You won’t worry about that when you see how much Ali has packed!”

 

Carrying her rifles, Ash watched Ali’s face as they approached the blanket where lunch had been spread out. Never had she met anyone who carried her emotions so clearly in her expressions. Ash’s heart skipped a beat when Ali’s gaze lifted to meet her own, and those whiskey brown eyes warmed as Ali smiled and stood.

“Captain Adam Bogardus, it’s my pleasure to introduce you to Doctor Ali Krieger,” Ash made the introductions before setting the rifle scabbards against the tree. She turned back in time to see Bogardus bow low over Ali’s hand and kiss her hand.

Ash barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes.

“And this is her brother, Kyle Krieger,” Ash continued. “He owns and runs South Pass’s general store. And this young man is Ali’s son, Cassius. He’s one of my throwers today.”

“Captain Bogardus, it’s an honor to meet you,” Kyle smiled as he shook the famous man’s hand.

“Will you join us for lunch, Captain?” Ali asked.

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure, Ma’am,” Adam replied.

* * *

To Be Continued!


	11. Chapter 11

“You weren’t kidding about the size of that spread!” Adam clapped Ash on the shoulder as they made their way to their positions on the shooting field.

“I never kid around where food is concerned, you know that,” Ash replied with a twinkle in her eye. “Tell me honestly, you aren’t going to do something stupidly noble and purposely miss a ball or two, are you?”

“Whatever gave you that idea, Marshal?”

“The shooting match of ‘86.”

“I still maintain I did not throw that match. My gun jammed,” Bogardus replied with a shake of his head.

“Uh huh. You keep saying that if it makes you feel better,” Ash said with a grin.

“Marshal, I want to thank you for a fine lunch!” Adam said a little more loudly for the benefit of the other shootists who were also coming back to the competition. “I do hope you’ll allow me to call on your fine doctor from time to time.”

“You are more welcome to share my meal with me than you are to call on Dr. Krieger,” Ash replied at the same volume. “It’s not polite to flirt with another man’s interest of the heart, after all.”

“May the best shootist win, then,” Bogardus inclined his head and shook Ash’s hand before striding away to his own lane.

 

The sun had pivoted to a better place for the competitors. It was no longer directly overhead but had slipped more behind them. The grooves and ridges in the glass amber balls twinkled in the afternoon light as they were unpacked from the wooden barrel and piled between Jed and Cassius.

“You boys ready for an afternoon of throwing?” Ash asked as she unpacked her rifles once more.

“You bet, Marshal!” Jed was so excited he could hardly stand still.

Cassius beamed widely and nodded.

“All right, same pattern as before. Which one of you is throwing first?”

Without communication, Jed and Cassius clenched their fists and engaged in the time-honored rock, paper, scissors method of settling who would throw first.

Jed won the throw with rock.

Ash nodded. “August, you ready?”

“Loaded and ready, Marshal.” August handed her a rifle.

 

“Shooters, make ready!” Came the call from behind them. “Fire at will!”

“Throw!” Ash called out as she thumbed the hammer back.

An amber ball arced up into the sky, followed by the muzzle of the rifle. At the pinnacle of its journey, Ash squeezed the trigger and the ball exploded into shards of dancing sunlight.

Without turning, she handed the gun to August, who handed her the rifle’s twin. She pulled the hammer back and set the butt into her shoulder.

“Throw.”

Again, she waited until the ball had hit the height of its trajectory before firing. Again, the ball exploded.

The scenario was repeated a dozen more times before she had to pause to shake her arms out.

“Gun too big and heavy for a lightweight like you, Marshal?”

Bill, from the saloon, was standing at the front of the crowd, heckling her.

Ali stood an arm-length away shaking her head, advising Ash against any foolish action.

Ali turned toward him. “You’ve come to me a few times to be fixed up after a bar brawl, haven’t you, Bill? Or that time, you shot your own foot? Going to be awfully hard to heal if I’m not around the next time you do that,” Ali said loudly enough that folks in the crowd could hear her. “Maybe you want to stop giving the Marshal any more of your attitude.” 

Bill shut his mouth and glared at her before stomping away, pushing people out of his path as he went.

Ali winked slowly at Ash, who swallowed hard and wished her rifles were a little lighter than nine pounds each.

 

Twenty-five more shots later, she still hadn’t missed. When she stepped back and shook out her arms again, she noticed there were five shooters left, including herself and Bogardus. Beside her was an older man that had introduced himself as Carver, on his right was the Captain, on his right was a young man someone had called Cardiff, and on her left was a young man with glasses using pistols.

 

Ten shots later, she stopped to clear her eyes and shake out her arms again.

 

Only she and Adam Bogardus remained as competitors.

 

“You all right, Marshal?” August asked quietly beside her.

 

“I will be when this is over,” she replied in a near-whisper. “I can barely raise my arms.”

“No surprise, you lifted eight hundred and seventy-three pounds today. You’ve been practicing with the pistols,” August reminded her. “You’d still have to lift your arms, but at least you wouldn’t be lifting nine pounds. And you’ve only got three more shots to make to win this.”

“Good thinking. I’ll use the pistols for these last ones.” Ash nodded tiredly and faced the field again as she pulled a Colt from the holster at her right hip. She cupped the butt of the pistol in her left hand and set her stance. “Throw!”

 

The pistol muzzle followed the amber sphere as it flew up toward increasing clouds.

Ash pulled the trigger and glass shards sprinkled down like sharp-edged rain. She lowered the gun and put it back in the holster. Then she pulled the gun from her left hip, cupped it in the palm of her right and tried to ignore the excited murmurs from the crowd at her back.

“...Can shoot with either hand, you see this?”

“...Never seen the likes of this…”

Ash slowed her breathing and tuned out the voices.

“Throw.”

Another ball arced heaven-ward and it too shattered like its predecessors.

 

“Marshal, Bogardus missed, you’ve won,” August said quietly beside her.

 

“Not until I’ve hit all one hundred, I haven’t,” Ash replied as she pulled the Colt from her right hip again.

August stepped back.

“Throw.”

 

Another ball met an explosive end and the crowd at her back went wild with applause.

 

Ali rushed forward and put her arm around Ash’s waist. “You look ready to drop,” she said as quietly as she could and still be heard. “Lean some of your weight on me.”

Ash put her right arm around Ali’s shoulders and they turned as one so Ash could acknowledge the applause meant for her.

 

Adam Bogardus stood on her left, smiling. “You look like shit, Marshal,” He said without raising his voice. “Shoulders?”

Ash nodded.

Bogardus laid his arm lightly across Ash’s shoulders. “Don’t let anyone close enough to slap your back then.” He smiled at the crowd, still applauding the winner of the match. “The winner! Marshal Harris!”

 

The applause washed over Ash like human-powered thunder.

 

**_To Be Continued!_ **

  
  
  
  
  



	12. Chapter 12

It was two days before Ali was able to make good on her promise to Ash. 

 

Kyle had reassured his sister that the house wouldn’t fall apart in her absence but privately advised her to be careful. 

“Be careful?” She asked as she put her hand on the door. “Of Ash?”

“No, of course not,” Kyle shook his head. “I just know how gossips in this town are.”

“We’ll be the very model of decency, I promise.”

 

They rode double on Bear with a light picnic lunch packed in a canvas bag tied with rope and strung diagonally across Ali’s back and a blanket rolled up and tossed across the horse’s withers. Ali rode behind Ash, arms wrapped tight around the marshal. She directed them out of town, out past the Johnston farm and into the woods beyond. 

“It’s nice being able to ride like this,” Ali said as she laid her cheek against Ash’s back.

“Yes, it is,” Ash settled her right hand over Ali’s arm. “Where to?”

“Follow the river, keep it on our left. We’ll come to a clearing on the right soon that has a huge boulder in it. That’s where we’ll stop.”

They rode the rest of the way in silence, content to listen to the birdsong in the trees blending with the babble of the river as it tumbled over the occasional branch that hung low into the water. When they came to the clearing, Ash pulled Bear to a stop. 

“I assume that’s your spot?”

“It is.”

Ash slid from Bear’s back, glad they’d ridden bareback and helped Ali down. They stood still, gazing into each other’s eyes, Ash’s hands still on Ali’s waist.

“You have the most incredible eyes I have ever seen,” Ash whispered. “So mysterious and yet...so full of hope.”

“I didn’t know you have the soul of a poet,” Ali replied softly.

 

At that very moment, Bear sneezed.

 

Ash shook her head and smiled. “He has a sense of timing, doesn’t he?”

“That he does. As much as I enjoy being this close to you, we should have lunch while it’s still good.”

With a sigh, Ash released Ali’s waist and turned to retrieve the picnic blanket. She handed it to the doctor while she pulled a long lead rope from across her own body. She tied one end to a birch sapling in the shade and one end to the bridle’s tie ring under Bear’s chin.

“There, now you can graze while we eat too,” Ash said softly as she patted his neck.

 

Ali found a spot beside the big grey boulder and spread the blanket out. 

“I brought some venison sandwiches and a couple of hard-boiled eggs,” She said as she unpacked the bag. The eggs had been wrapped in cloth and then placed inside two tin-ware cups. The sandwiches had also been wrapped in cloth and then tied with string. Another cloth-wrapped bundle turned out to be a preserve jar of juice.

“Cassius and I saved the juice the last time we did up preserves from wild berries. I thought you might like it,” She said.

“I’m sure I will,” Ash said as she lowered herself down beside Ali. “This is a nice spot, how did you find it?”

“I came out this way to call on a patient one day, and dropped one of the reins. My horse saw the opportunity and followed her nose. She stopped when she got to the river and I was able to get off and pick the rein up.”

“I noticed you have a wagon and yet no horse. How did that happen?” Ash asked as she accepted a cup of juice. “Thank you.”

“One of my patients needed a horse more than I did, so I gave her up so that the children didn’t have to walk five miles to town,” Ali replied.

“That was nice of you.”

“If I knew then what I know now, I wouldn’t have done it,” Ali passed Ash one of the sandwiches with a little frown and took a drink of her own juice.

“Why? You did a good thing for those folks.”

 

Ali blew out a sad breath. “They were starving. The father had been shot and died before Kyle and I came out here and his widow and three kids were trying hard but…” Ali swallowed. “Anyway, the widow refused to come to town, too embarrassed I guess. I left them my horse, thinking then it was a simple matter of the distance they had to walk. The next time I went out, I didn’t see Buttercup, so I asked about her. The widow wouldn’t look at me, wouldn’t say anything, so I asked the oldest child. He said she ran off, and his Ma had gone looking for her but hadn’t found her yet. But he said she did find a deer though and they were eating again. Then he ran out the door.”

Ali picked at a loose thread in the blanket.

“I didn’t know what to say after that. I was feeling too much all at once to find the right words, so I just picked up my medical bag and left.”

 

Ash looked over at Bear, who gazed back while he chewed a mouthful of grass. A flood of horror made her tremble as she realized what had happened to Ali’s horse, and she had to forcibly swallow a couple of times to keep breakfast down.

 

“It was a couple of weeks before I could make myself go back out there,” Ali continued in a whisper. “But I needn’t have bothered. For all my knocking, no one answered, so I went in...I still have nightmares...I dream those children are begging me for help…” Ali looked up at Ash then, her brown eyes full of tears. “She had smothered each of them with their own pillows and then hung herself. They all died for nothing...the children, their mother and Buttercup.”

 

Ash took her handkerchief from her pocket and offered it to Ali. Once she had pulled herself together and dried her tears, she apologised.

“I’m sorry, we’re supposed to be celebrating your win and I’m crying.”

“It was a traumatic event, I’d be worried if it didn’t leave an impact on you,” Ash waited in silence for a minute before she changed the subject. “You were right, I really like this juice.”

“It’s a mixture of whatever we picked that day. I remember we found a patch of blackberries not far from here, and raspberries a little closer to home,” Ali replied. “Can I ask you a question?”

Ash nodded as she bit into her sandwich.

“How did you become a marshal?”

 

“That’s a long story,” Ash chuckled.

“We have time.”

 

“Alright…” Ash looked up and studied the trees for a moment, then took a breath. “My father was a sheriff. My Aunt Ellen was his sister. My mother left us when I was still a baby. My aunt would watch me while my father made his rounds. One day when I was about five, he didn’t come home. There was a bank robbery, and he’d tried to stop it. I grew up telling my aunt I was going to follow in his footsteps.”

“And she never tried to dissuade you?”

“Nope. She would look me in the eye and tell me there wasn’t anything I couldn’t do if I put my mind to it. She said I might have to approach some things more creatively than others, but that meant I’d have to be smarter than the rest.” Ash took a drink of juice before continuing. “I think I always knew I wasn’t like the other kids. All I wanted to do was work with horses, dresses, skirts...all that stuff was like a foreign place to me that I never wanted to go to. Trousers were far more practical when training a horse. Eventually, I got my hair got shorter and shorter. People in town would talk, but I ignored them. One Sunday, Judge Harding and Adam Bogardus came out to the ranch for dinner. I was about 16 by then. The Judge came not only to eat but to buy a horse too. I remember he looked long and hard, asked me all kinds of questions about them, their bloodlines, how I’d trained them and so on. He seemed impressed.”

 

Ash finished her sandwich and then took up the rest of her tale. “Over dinner, he said the Marshal for the area had been killed by a gang of bandits, and he and some other men were riding after them in a few days, which is why he needed the horse. He asked my aunt if she could spare any of the farm hands for the posse, and without even thinking, I told him that I’d ride with him.”

“Your aunt objected then, I’ll bet.”

“No, but she did warn me that it wouldn’t be easy.”

“I reminded her that my whole life she had encouraged me to stand up for what I believed in, and I believed in justice. The Judge tried to talk me out of it, but I reminded him that I could ride harder, shoot better and track better than most men in the area. Adam had taught me how to shoot when I was younger you see.”

Ali chuckled, “That explains the shooting competition.”

“He swears he didn’t throw the match,” Ash shook her head with a small smile. “Anyway, the Judge finally agreed and we rode out after the bandits a few days after. None of the men knew who I was, so I asked the Judge to keep my identity and gender a secret. I wanted to see if I could pass myself off as a man. He agreed, and from then on, I used Harris as my name so no one would be the wiser.”

“Were the bandits caught?” Ali asked as she leaned back against the boulder.

 

“We caught up with them two weeks after,” Ash nodded. “I was scouting one evening just before dark, looking for a place to make camp. Off in the distance, I saw a light so I went to investigate. I snuck up on their camp, took note of how many there were, guns and so forth and snuck back to tell the Judge. We waited until the coldest part of the night, you know that hour just before dawn?”

Ali nodded.

“We walked into their camp quieter than mice, subdued a few of them before someone kicked over the coffee pot, but we managed to arrest every one of them without spilling any blood. The Judge was mighty pleased. We took them back to town on their own horses just inside of a week...there was no need to go slow then. Judge Harding turned the horses over to me, called them ‘redistributed assets of crime’, then gave me his share of the bounty as well as my own. Just before we parted company, he told me that if I ever wanted a job as an officer of the law, to come look him up.”

“Did you?”

“Not right away,” Ash shook her head as she played with a blade of grass. “I was happy breeding and training horses. There had been talk of a gang of vicious men on the move, robbing, killing and raping wherever they went, the Dell Gang. I was getting bored on the ranch and I started to wonder how I would bring them in. One day I had errands to run in town and I wandered over to see the Judge. I asked him a bunch of questions about being a Marshal, jurisdictions, responsibilities and so forth. He told me that if I wanted to pursue that line of work, he had the authority to pin a federal star on my chest, but it would be a rough, demanding life. I convinced him to make me a Marshal and went home with the star in my saddlebags. Aunt Ellen wasn’t happy when I told her, but she supported my choice.”

 

Ali watched a cardinal flit from branch to branch in a nearby tree as she asked, “So were you as successful capturing the Dell Gang as you had been with the first one?”

“No,” Ash shook her head. “I had gathered a posse, but we had a long hunt. The Gang sure didn’t make it easy. In the end, there was a gunfight. I lost most of my posse and all of the Dell Gang but one died,” Ash sighed. “We put an end to their rampage though. Sometimes, that’s how it goes. I prefer to use my head and less of my gun.”

 

“Like with Kennecot?”

“Exactly,” Ash nodded. “In the end, his men had to pay for their decision to follow him, but he was the only one of them that I shot. Sometimes, justice has to be dealt with lead, but it’s not my first choice.”

“I think you might possibly be the bravest person I know,” Ali said softly.

“And I think you’re the prettiest woman I know,’ Ash said as she reached for Ali’s hand.

“I think you might be biased.”

“Quite possibly,” Ash agreed. She looked up from Ali’s fingers to her deep brown eyes, content to lose herself in the gold flecks she found there. She leaned toward the other woman, smelled the faint echo of her soap, and whispered, “I can think of nothing better than kissing you right now.”

Ali studied Ash’s face, reached up to slide her fingers along the now-familiar jaw, curling her hand to caress the marshal’s neck before she pulled their heads together, kissing Ash with an intensity that surprised even her. In the few heartbeats that their lips were joined, Ali felt a heat like nothing she had experienced before, it consumed her...wrapped around her and settled somewhere deep inside. She heard a voice inside her whisper…’home’, and she felt the rightness of it settle in her soul.

When their lips parted, she peered carefully at Ash, whose hazel eyes sparkled.

“Did you feel that?”

“Did you hear that?”

They both spoke at the same time, then laughed as they both nodded.

“That was amazing,” Ali said softly.

“Very worth the wait,” Ash agreed. “We should do it again.”

 

And so they did until the lack of air forced them apart if only to catch their breath. They sat on the blanket, with their foreheads touching, revelling in their newly discovered passion for each other.

“I’m so glad we came out here today,” Ali said, pink tingeing her cheeks.

“As am I. We should do it again sometime.”

***

 

Neither of them were troubled by bad dreams that night. Both had reached out with trust and had found ardour in return.

Both hoped it would grow into love.

 

**_The End, For Now!_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think? Leave your thoughts in the comments below, I'd love to hear what you thought.  
> There's a new instalment in this series under development, so we'll be visiting with Ash, Ali, Kyle and Cassius soon!


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